


stupid with love

by coldairballoons



Series: Prompt List Fics [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Fluff, Kit is a Good Sibling, Lemony is Hopeless (But We Love Him Anyways.), Love Confessions, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldairballoons/pseuds/coldairballoons
Summary: Lemony Snicket has a crush. Well, two. How to woo them, however... much harder than he expected.(Title from "Stupid With Love" from Mean Girls)
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire/Bertrand Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket, Kit Snicket & Lemony Snicket
Series: Prompt List Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163783
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	stupid with love

**Author's Note:**

> [sprinkles in fluff] As a treat.

Bouquets were simple enough, but too showy in Lemony’s opinion. No, flowers wouldn’t work, they were too… fragrant, too exaggerated, too much. He frowned, shutting the magazine that Kit had lent him-- _ Romance!: How To Woo Your Crush. _ , a special edition of a magazine based solely on gift-giving. 

He was never great at it. Words made sense to Lemony, on a page, typed onto a typewriter or computer screen, inked out onto a letter. Even spoken, he was more eloquent than the average man--although, he supposed that would be due to his unusual upbringing and education. Some very fine details had to be plotted out for a gift, though, and Lemony tossed the magazine to the coffee table in his hotel room with a huff.

“What, is it not helpful?” Kit frowned, uncrossing her legs beneath her and leaning forward. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed a few kernels into her mouth, chewing as she spoke. Jacques would be appalled, Lemony thought with a slight smile. “Seriously, Lemming, just tell them. You’re good at that.”

“As far as you know. You’ve borne witness to many failures on my end regarding romantic attraction, and why can’t this be one of them in your mind?” He replied, half-heartedly lifting the corner of the magazine cover again, as though afraid it would bite him. 

Kit sighed, tossing a kernel at Lemony’s head. It bounced off and hit the coffee table, falling onto the floor--almost like Lemony’s assumed outcome of this confession. “Bea and Bert are my friends as well as yours. You know them, I know them, J knows them… they won’t hate you if you confess like this.”

“And what if I, as you put it so eloquently earlier, ‘royally fuck this up’?”

Kit gave Lemony a smile, one that was supposed to be reassuring, but it just made his stomach tense up and his hands clench and unclench in his lap, desperately trying not to panic. Why was this thought, the thought of confessing his emotions, so much dreadfully harder than whatever mission they were on? “If you ‘royally fuck this up’, L, just know that it’s okay.”

“I can’t lose them.” He insisted, and leaned forward to take a few kernels of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. “They mean too much to me. As friends, and… I can’t lose them, not like this.”

“You won’t.” Kit assured him, and leaned forward to pat his arm before he could pull it back from the popcorn bowl. “It’ll be okay, Lemony.”

***

...Okay, so maybe bouquets weren’t awful. Properly arranged, Lemony thought, looking down at the pink camellia, which, according to Kit, symbolized longing, and yarrow, symbolizing everlasting love, in the bouquet. It was simple, and Lemony felt a bit of pride in his chest looking down at the amalgamation he’d created. Poems, written by his own hand, were wrapped around the base of the stems, holding the flowers up, and the flowers themselves were tied together by a red ribbon.

And now, he supposed, rocking back and forth anxiously on the balls of his feet, all he had to do was wait. He had knocked, rung the doorbell, and was waiting for someone to answer the door at the Baudelaire estate. 

His fingers drummed against the bouquet as the seconds ticked past, feeling more like hours, but finally, finally, someone opened the door, and Lemony Snicket was looking directly into the eyes of Beatrice Baudelaire, her husband standing behind her. She smiled, and Lemony could feel his heart (metaphorically) grow in his chest. 

She glanced at the bouquet in his hands, then back up at him, and then back towards Bertrand, who was staring with wide eyes at Lemony. Lemony, on the other hand, was instantly regretting all of the choices that led him to this moment in time, and quickly tried to cover up the bouquet with his hands. “I-These-this is pure coincidence-”

“Lemony?” Beatrice said, and her voice sounded like the sweetest honey, if honey had a voice. A smile toyed at her lips, and sparkled in her eyes, and she nudged Bertrand. “One moment--sweetie, could you go fetch the…?” She raised her eyebrows, and Lemony knew a code when he saw one. A look between two people that meant something other than what it appeared to, and this certainly was that, as Bertrand flittered off to fetch the… whatever it was.

Beatrice turned back to him, and Lemony was sure his face was as pink as the flowers he’d chosen. He realized now that flowers were a poor choice, they would soon die, and dead flowers were of interest to very few, very odd people, perhaps a nice cactus would have been preferable, or maybe a nice rock…

Instead, as Bertrand returned, looking as dashing as ever--Lemony caught his breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever was due to happen. “I- Beatrice, Bertrand, there is… something I must tell you.”

“And we have something we wish to tell you as well.” Bertrand hummed, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. Momentarily, Lemony was jealous, but of who, he honestly could not tell. Whether he wanted his arm around Beatrice’s waist, or Bertrand’s arm around his waist, or both… “Lemony, Beatrice and I…”

“Bertrand and I, we… we’ve been thinking.” She looked him up and down, that same smile playing at her lips. “I know your feelings towards me, your affections regarding me. And if we’re correct, we know of your affections towards Bertrand as well.”

Lemony glanced between them, eyes wide. “I- You’re… you’re taking that surprisingly well, seeing as… well, you’re married.”

Bertrand laughed, and if Beatrice’s laugh sounded like bells--high, rich, light--his sounded like drums. Low, rumbling, and yet… still light and beautiful. Lemony could listen to both of their laughs forever, such a beautiful symphony… “Lemony, that’s why we’re… we’re going to ask you something.”

Beatrice offered a hand, and dully, Lemony took it. The single hand now holding his bouquet shook, and he was positive his face was as red as that ribbon on the bouquet now…

“We… want to introduce you into our relationship. If… you wish.” Beatrice said softly. “We’ve talked and talked and talked, and seeing as both of us reciprocate your feelings towards us, and how polyamorous relationships can work out as well and as healthily as monogamous ones…”

“I’m in love with you.” Lemony blurted, then dropped the bouquet to clasp a hand to his mouth. “But- you… already… you knew that, but you’re asking me… to…?”

“We know it’s a big decision, Lem, and if you’re not ready to make it, we entirely understand.” Bertrand said, and knelt down to pick up the bouquet. “Don’t feel pressured, alright?”

“No!” Lemony blurted--goodness, he needed to stop blurting out words and think over what he was saying, didn’t he?--and shook his head. Momentarily, all three looked shocked, before Lemony spoke again. “No, no, absolutely, yes, I- God, this is all- yes, I… I would love to. I- I just meant, ‘no, I don’t need to think it over’, because my mind…” He laughed breathlessly. “My mind is made up.”

The smiles on Beatrice and Bertrand’s faces grew and grew, and Lemony didn’t register how his own was growing until his cheeks, still scarlet, started to ache. With another breathless laugh, he looked up at his friends--no, his… partners? They would have to discuss that.--and offered the bouquet, which had found its way back into his hands. “For you.”

And, as Lemony Snicket walked into the house of his newfound loves… maybe bouquets weren’t the trick to a romance. That magazine was most definitely wrong, but, as he looked at the smiling faces of Beatrice and Bertrand Baudelaire, maybe he didn’t need it at all. And, as they offered their own gift--a watercolored painting of a photograph, of one of their missions that had ended, frankly, poorly, but with more laughter and fun than they had expected or had had in years, courtesy of Bertrand--Lemony knew there was much, much more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr!


End file.
